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Last week, I’m cruisin downtown, eyes peeled. This chick’s leanin on a pole, smokin, lookin bored as fuck. I’m like, “Aight, maybe her,” but then—BOOM—some dude rolls up, screamin at her. Pimp, boyfriend, who knows? I’m out! Ain’t nobody got time for that drama. Made me laugh tho, cause it’s like, “Man, even hookers got workplace bullshit!” Reminds me of that diner scene—quiet, then all hell breaks loose. “You tell me what I want!” I’m yellin in my head, but nah, I just peeled out.

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Anyway, I’m chugging my coffee, feeling all hyped, when I hear this loud crash. Like, what the heck? I turn around, and there’s this dude on a bike, totally wiped out. I rush over, heart racing. He’s fine, just a bit bruised. But his bike? Oof. It looked like it had a bad breakup. I helped him up, and he was like, “Thanks, man! I thought I was done for!” I laughed, told him to stick to walking.

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